Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
Bio
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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British aesthetician Clive Bell once stated: “Everyone in his heart believes that there is a real distinction between works of art and all other objects.” French conceptual artist Marcel Duchamp challenges this statement with the “ready-made” found objects such as the Fountain and the Bicycle Wheel. “Duchamp believed that any ordinary object could be elevated to the status of an artwork just by an artist choosing that object.”
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
Optical Experience
"Modernism ... made it more conscious of itself. With Manet and the Impressionists, the question ceased to be defined as one of color versus drawing, and became instead a question of purely optical experience as against optical experience modified or revised by tactile associations” (Greenberg).
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
The Rites of Spring
During our primary education, we are taught science, music, literature, history, and art. We are instructed on what is. Included in this instruction is how the form of things change, like water and its various stages: liquid, solid, and gas. In art, teachers identify certain key contributions as works of art. So, when we are asked the question: "What is art?" we begin listing off types and we may even identify key figures in the art world. These two things, the work of art and the artist, inform us that art is a product of human efforts. By this reasoning, art is anything that we make.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
The Battle for History
Victor Arnautoff, “a Russian-American painter and professor of art” was commissioned by the government through the WPA Federal Art Project to paint murals for the newly constructed George Washington High School in San Francisco (19356-1936). This project was a part of a larger initiative meant to provide economic relief to the unemployed during the Great Depression. Arnautoff used his knowledge of the first president of the United States to render a brilliantly colored fresco narrative depicting various scenes from his life. While the images are based on fact, there has been a great deal of debate over the nature of two of the scenes. The first shows the activities at Mount Vernon where President George Washington grew wheat that was harvested by African-American Slaves. The other displays the body of a murdered Native American.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
No Justification Required
Art for art’s sake was coined in the early 19th century by the French philosopher Victor Cousin. This phrase expresses the belief that art needs no justification and that it does not need to have a purpose (Britannica). In How Art Works, Ellen Winner, challenges the reader to consider the questions like “Can This Be Art?” (Winner 6). Other questions to consider are: "What is Art?” and “What do people think art is?" The answers to these questions are subjective. Literally, the definition of art is in the eye of the observer. Mark Rothko expresses that art is more than the object when he says:
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
To Be or Not To Be Moved
Many years ago, I worked in the hospital as a peripheral vascular technician; completing studies on various veins and arteries. As a student, my favorite area of the body was the brain and the vascular system of the brain. I found the brain incredibly fascinating and mysterious. As a musician, I can attest to the physical responses to music and the feelings that accompany different pieces of music. In her book, How Art Works, Ellen Winner discusses the biological responses to music sharing that
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Humans
Plain as the Alphabet
"It is my design to make those who can scarcely read understand." - Thomas Paine As I continued to read Thomas Paine's reflection on his own writing style, contained in The Norton Anthology of American Literature, I couldn't help but recall a similar comment made by William Wordsworth a quarter of a century later when he wrote the Preface to Lyrical Ballads (published 1801). When studying British Literature, I came across an article written by Tom Thompson, "The State of the Preface Address: on Wordsworth and Common Speech." According to Thompson:
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Geeks
Memoir of an Affair
She woke refreshed and ready for the day, already knowing what to expect because she had planned it the day before. The kids were up on time, had eaten breakfast, and were ready to head out for school. Dinner was already planned and would be ready by the time Victor got home at 5 p.m. She took pride in her ability to keep a house and be a mother and a wife. And she did all this as well as working full time. Everything was as it should be. She smiled to herself as she thought of her accomplishments, wished her kids a great day as she dropped them off at school, and reminded them how much she loved them. She was happy. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. She told herself that she was being silly. For in the face of all the facts of her existence there wasn't any reason to doubt or to fear. Today was going to be a good day. As she pulled into her assigned parking space and in the peace and solitude of her car, her heart whispered: "I have a feeling..."
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Fiction
The Moral Compass
Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901), defines the historical and literary period of the Victorian Age. The historical Industrial Revolution and the literary Romance period preceded the Victorian age, each laying the groundwork for the advances and growth experienced in England. The Romantic Period was a response to the Industrial Revolution that catapulted Europe forward economically. The Romantics sensed a loss of humanity due to the separation from the simplicity of life and connection to nature. It was a plea to return to the Golden Age. Poems and prose expressed the feelings of many writers who felt that England’s leadership in “commerce and industry exacted a terrible price in human happiness.” And that “progress had been gained by abandoning traditional rhythms of life and traditional patterns of human relationships.” The rapid and unregulated growth of industrialization came with many social and economic issues. The Victorian Era appeared to address more of the social order of things. What is acceptable. Right and wrong were clearly defined. Women were expected to conduct themselves in a way that represented high moral standards and conduct befitting a lady. The sexual appetites of the sexes were not considered appropriate topics of conversation. A young woman would be ruined if found in a compromising situation. Repeated themes of the Victorian era include the roles of women, morality, and principles of good versus evil.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Geeks
Lilacs Blooming
O Captain! My Captain! BY WALT WHITMAN O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Poets